


dancing slowly in an empty room

by appleheart



Series: LoZ Music Shuffle Prompts [3]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Loneliness, Reincarnation, Sad, Wishful Thinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-13 00:45:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4501305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appleheart/pseuds/appleheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In every reincarnation, he will always come for her--but never soon enough. And in every reincarnation, she will see him killed.  Zelda steals what happiness she can. (TP-specific.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	dancing slowly in an empty room

**Author's Note:**

> Done for a music shuffle prompt. [kradeelav](http://kradeelav.tumblr.com) requested "ZelGan" and the shuffle turned up Christina Perri's "The Lonely."

She knows he will come to her soon. She knows the signs, just as the gilding of autumn leaves herald the approach of winter. The shadows grow long; children suffer nightmares they cannot describe; a heavy sense of death descends. No one in her kingdom has yet breathed his name, but she knows.

In an empty room, she awaits her lover.

The gods are cruel. Their pawns must dance the same fated waltz as they have shared a thousand times before. He will come to her soon, but never soon enough. He will break her kingdom with a touch, as he has always done, as he must always do. In turn, she will always break him.

A thousand such waltzes, and never time for them to be in love. There is little margin for improvisation when one moves to the music of destiny.

But she has learned to borrow from time. She steals moments with him whenever she can. Even if he is not truly with her yet, as the world would understand it.

While her kingdom shudders in the grip of uneasy dreams, she frees her dark hair from its pins and braids and windings. She sheds her cloak like a ghost stepping out of its shroud, leaving it crumpled on the flagstones. The air is chill, but she remembers the desert-dry heat within his skin and is warmed.

She circles the room, blowing out the candles one by one. Now the only dim light comes from the fire, burning orange and low in the hearth. The room fills with shadows. The darkness is nearly tangible.

She holds out her arms to embrace that darkness. Humming a melody of her own, she begins to move in the steps of a different dance. The shadows waltz with her in perfect time. As the fire settles lower, she can almost feel his presence.

All alone, in the arms of darkness, she dances with her wayward lover.


End file.
